


Truth and Love

by Lenny9987



Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [36]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-09 13:37:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11670195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: Prompt: Imagine if Jenny hadn't sent for Laoghaire when Jamie and Claire return in Voyager and Jamie had the chance to tell Claire about Laoghaire. Willie, too. Maybe in a place special to them both on the Lallybroch land.





	1. Chapter 1

Claire woke to find it still dark. Jamie and Ian were sitting by their campfire talking quietly but casting large shadows on the rock face behind them as they gesticulated wildly in the course of their discussion. Claire blinked and tried to decide who was doing the scolding and who was being scolded; from what little of their tone she could pick up, that was all she could tell for certain.

She rolled over and grabbed the edges of her cloak tight about her. She was both looking forward to and dreading arriving at Lallybroch. A proper bed and some time to enjoy it with Jamie were what she hoped most to find upon their arrival. They needed some time to talk through what they wanted for their future now that there were the two of them once more.

It took Claire a moment to decide whether they were yet to go to bed or simply up before the dawn. No, she would have noticed Jamie join her so they hadn’t slept yet.

Jamie cut Ian off when he saw Claire approaching.

“Ye’re no having trouble sleeping, are ye?” he asked with concern.

“It’s certainly easier when I have you there next to me,” she teased with a tired smile.

His face relaxed and he smiled back, rolling his eyes briefly as he glanced down and saw Ian watching them.

“I’ll come back with ye, Sassenach. It’s late and we’ll be wantin’ to get an early start.”

“Good night again, Ian,” Claire said with a smile for her nephew.

“Sleep well, Auntie Claire,” he smiled and nodded. “Uncle Jamie,” he added with a significant look to the man in question that Claire couldn’t possibly miss.

They crossed the clearing to where Jamie had erected their small shelter from a crevice in the rock face using a blanket for a third wall and dried moss, leaves, and grass to cushion the ground under his cloak. Claire pulled her cloak off again and lay down leaving room for Jamie beside her. He hesitated before taking a seat and leaning against the rock.

“Is… something wrong?” Claire asked rolling over to face him and putting a hand on his knee. “What were you talking about with Ian?”

“I thought he should go ahead to Lallybroch,” Jamie answered with a shrug, “let them know we’re on our way.”

“You want him to face Jenny and Ian  _without_  you there to run interference?” Claire asked.

“He wants them to treat him like the man he nearly is so I told him he needs to face his responsibilities and that means facin’ his parents and havin’ it out with them, no hiding and letting  _me_ … what was it ye called it?  _Run interference_?” Jamie smiled and shifted his shoulders awkwardly against the hard rock. His hand covered Claire’s on his leg, a finger playing with her ring. “The lad… he told me––and rightly so––that I ought not to lecture him… when… when there’s something I’m needing to tell  _you_.”

Claire stiffened and her heart began to pound but Jamie held her hand tight in his own.

“What… what do you need to tell me?”

“First… I need ye to know that I meant what I said before,” Jamie began, his voice dropping low. “I want ye, Claire. As much now as I ever did before–– _more_  even. But I’ll understand if… if what I say now changes how ye feel towards me. I dinna want to take ye to Lallybroch if… well…”

“Jamie… you’re scaring me,” Claire confessed.

“We said we wouldna talk of… when I told ye I’d not lived these twenty years as a monk––”

“I don’t need to hear about other women, Jamie.” There was warning and fear in her voice but Jamie’s fingers rubbed circles into her palm and it helped to keep her calm.

“There’s only three in those twenty years and wi’ two it was naught but a single night,” he said quickly. “I would be more than happy to pretend they didna happen… the Lord knows they didna make me miss ye or yearn for ye any less… rather the opposite, in fact,” he rambled. “But… I need ye to listen because I need ye to understand.” He looked to her, imploring and terrified.

For a moment all she could hear was the pounding in her ears. She wanted to rip her hand away and curl into a ball against the rock, put her fingers into her ears and hum the way Brianna had done during thunderstorms as a child. But a flicker of curiosity caught in her belly and grew, threatening to twist her guts. She squeezed Jamie’s hand back to signal she was ready for him to continue.

“There was a lass in my time paroled in England… Her parents betrothed her to a man old enough to be her grandsire and she…” He shook his head at the memory. “She didna mean to be bedded by an old man––no for her first time.”

Claire bit her tongue so the retort “ _So you said you would help?_ ” remained unsaid.

“I felt for her position but had no intention to take her for that reason,” Jamie insisted, the intensity of his meaning squeezing her fingers till the bones ground against each other. “She was the daughter of the man in charge of my parole… and she was a sly and conniving thing too. I wasna allowed letters except those that passed through her father and he was to read every one of them. Jenny and I found ways around it. But the lass got her hands on one and…” Jamie shook his head. “If it had only been me threatened by it, I’d no have done it. But it wasna  _just_  me her havin’ that letter put in danger; it was Jenny and Ian and their bairns… They… they were all I had left.”

Claire took a deep breath, her thumb rubbing soothingly against his fingers. Before she could assure him that he’d had no choice but to go along with what the young woman had wanted, he blurted, “I have a son by her. William, he’s called.”

At that, Claire  _did_  try to pull her hand away but Jamie reached out with his other hand to hold it in both of his, a pleading gesture. “It was the one night and I didn’t know until after she had died in childbed. Nearly everyone believes he’s her late husband’s and I never can claim him. But he’s…  _mine_. The lass’ parents are raising him. When I was there… I could see him from time to time.”

“ _Nearly_  everyone…” Claire murmured quietly.

“I had to leave when the resemblance became too strong. I’ll… I’ll never be able to see him again… and he’ll never know. I… havena told anyone at Lallybroch about him––even Jenny and Ian.”

“Then… what were you and Ian talking about by the fire just now if it wasn’t…” she swallowed hard and forced the words out, “your son.”

Jamie bowed his head with obvious shame. His grip on her hand remained desperately, painfully tight as his fingers pressed into the back of her hand.

“Ye need to understand… losing you, Claire…” he made a sound almost like a laugh. “Ye ken what yer name is in the Gáidhlig?  _Sorcha_. ‘Light.’ Losing ye, yer light was gone. I was stuck in a never ending dark of night. All I had left were the stars––Jenny, Ian, their bairns. At times they shone brighter, at times they were dim, but they were what light was left to me… until William. If yer light was the sun, he was moonlight, brighter than the stars.”

There was pride in his voice that cut at Claire. It was a pride she knew too well; the pride of seeing your child’s growth and accomplishments firsthand… the pride of knowing. It was the pride he should have had for Brianna. She knew he loved Brianna and would undoubtedly claim he was proud of her… but it would never ring at the same pitch.

“When I left Helwater and came back to Lallybroch… I’d neither sun nor moon and the stars… Ye did tell me once that we see their light for a time after they die and burn out, no? I came back and it was as though I couldna see their light anymore. The bairns were mostly grown or didna ken me so well as they once did. The tenants had less need of me… It wasna like comin’ home at all,” he admitted with dejection and pain in his voice.

Claire swallowed sensing a lump in her throat. It hurt to hear about William, to think about Brianna, but it hurt more in that moment to feel Jamie reliving his pain. What would she have done, how would she have survived without Brianna? Worse, to have had Brianna and then lost her in some way? She reached her free hand up and rested it atop his two.

“I… can only imagine… what Jenny thought of me then, how she feared for me bein’ alone as I was. She… she didna want me to be on my own, kent I needed someone to care for and to have care for me.”

Claire’s hands went cold and limp.

“Who?” she asked quietly. “She pushed you to marry someone else––that’s what you’re trying to tell me… you’ve remarried…”

Jamie’s inhalation sounded almost like a sob. He nodded.

Claire closed her eyes and focused on the clammy warmth of his hands and how they trembled holding her own. He was scared––terrified. But he was telling her. He could have––and arguably  _should_ have––told her sooner… but he  _was_  telling her. And hadn’t she herself said that she didn’t care if he was a bigamist or a traitor or a thief. A nervous part of her wanted to laugh; when they’d first wed,  _she_  had been the one with two living spouses, though one of hers had conveniently been living in another century. But she had kept that from him for several months, until the truth of it could be avoided no longer.

He hadn’t known she was coming back for him. She had interrupted his life, had consciously known it would be messy and awkward to try and fit the pieces of their lives back together. He had spoiled her with that week of not-knowing. She had let herself relax and think it would be easy after all.

“Do you… do you  _love_  her at––”

“No,” he interrupted quickly. “I never should ha’ married her. She was a widow wi’ two lasses and desperate for a man to provide for the three of them. It has helped––bein’ needed in that way, as a provider… But we werena happy and I didna stay wi’ Laoghaire moren’ a few months after we wed before goin’ on to Edinburgh.”

“Laoghaire?” Claire pulled her hands sharply from Jamie’s grasp. “Are you telling me the woman you married is Laoghaire MacKenzie?”


	2. Chapter 2

Jamie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “She hadna been a MacKenzie in name for two husbands when I wed her. The lasses still bear their late da’s name of MacKimmie.”

“But it’s the same Laoghaire MacKenzie from Castle Leoch,” Claire said spitting venom. She wasn’t cold anymore; she was quite hot with the rage and fury bubbling up from the pit of her stomach to lodge and pound in her temples.

“Aye. She’s the Laoghaire as was Mrs. Fitz’s granddaughter,” he confirmed.

“So you wed the same Laoghaire that was responsible for sending me to the Thieves’ Hole,” Claire informed him with a disgusted sneer. She pushed herself up from the ground and yanked her cloak from where it had been covering the both of them.

Jamie was stunned and blinking, confused. “She never… She couldna… I would have… Ye never said…” he sputtered before he realized Claire was walking away. “Wait! Claire! Please, ye have to believe me. I never–– _never_ ––would have wed her did I know she had done what ye say. How could ye think for even a  _moment_ ––”

“Just leave me alone, Jamie,” she warned, pulling her arm away from where he was reaching for her. “Don’t touch me. Just… leave me alone.” She turned her back on him.

“Claire,” he begged. “Please…”

She sighed and shook her head. “Just… leave me alone for a bit,” she amended. “I need to… I need to think about this.” She walked off into the darkness along the edge of the clearing, pulling the cloak tighter around her.

There wasn’t anywhere she truly trusted herself to wander without getting lost so she wound up circling around to the mouth of the clearing where stared off into the darkness of the woods and the road beyond.

Laoghaire bloody MacKenzie. Of all the women Jamie might have married, it had to be Laoghaire bloody MacKenzie. And for Jenny to have put him up to it. She wanted to slap both women and give them a shake for good measure.

She tried to tell herself that he hadn’t known––no one had known save for Geillis, who died a short time later, and Colum MacKenzie, who had also died a short time after Claire informed him of Laoghaire’s role. It wasn’t as though Laoghaire would have told anyone the truth of what happened.

Still, the thought of him touching her, kissing her,  _bedding_  her… 

Claire bent down and picked up the closest and heaviest thing to hand––a small but thick branch––and hurled it into the trees. She heard it smack into a nearby trunk before falling back to the ground with a snap.

“Please dinna go, Auntie Claire,” Ian said from a few feet behind her causing her to jump.

She pressed a hand to her chest to feel it pounding behind her ribs.

“Sorry,” he apologized, hanging back. She could barely make him out in the starlight. “I didna mean to scare ye.”

“It’s all right,” she assured him. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ye mean… ye’re not leaving Uncle Jamie?” the lad asked with surprised hope.

She looked through the trees toward the road. It would take a while and the road would be dangerous, but she could do it; she could walk back to Edinburgh and find a coach to take her back to Inverness before heading back to the hill and the stones, before going back to Brianna and telling her about how Jamie knew about her now.

But she couldn’t go back and face Brianna knowing Jamie was alive––alive and that he still wanted her as much as she wanted him. She couldn’t walk away like that no matter how much she wanted to punish him––rational or irrational as the impulse might be. They had suffered together through losing Faith. They had each suffered alone for twenty years. There would undoubtedly be times of suffering in their future, but she didn’t want to go through it alone again if she didn’t have to… not when Jamie was here and alive when for so long he hadn’t been.

“No, I’m not leaving your Uncle Jamie,” Claire informed the lad.

Ian sighed with relief. “Good. Uncle Jamie… he needs ye, Auntie Claire. Mam and Da… they didna talk of ye often by name but they would talk about how Uncle Jamie was  _before_. It wasna till Da said ye’d come back for him and I saw the two of ye at Madame Jeanne’s that I kent the ‘before’ they meant was before he lost  _you_. I used to think they meant before he went to prison, when I was just a bairn.”

Claire turned her head slightly to see Ian was watching her closely, his head tilted as he examined her face though what he was looking for, she couldn’t say.

“I’ve never seen Uncle Jamie the way he’s been since ye came back for him. I dinna think I ever heard him laugh before,” Ian confessed.

She turned her gaze away again and heard Ian move off to leave her alone once more. She kept staring into the trees, her eyes adjusting to the darkness until she could distinguish which shapes were branches, which part of the underbrush, and the small flickers of movement that were the nocturnal creatures creeping about in near silence.

With a final heavy sigh, Claire turned and traced her way back to the small shelter Jamie had built. She felt his eyes on her as she came in sight of it but kept her eyes down both to avoid looking at him and to prevent herself from tripping over her own two feet in the dim light.

It was clear, even in the dark, that he had been crying. There was still a ragged edge to his breathing as if the sobs were only recently contained and fighting to break loose again.

“Claire…” he rasped as she stood in what amounted to the doorway.

She dropped to her knees and crawled in, feeling him tense as she briefly settled facing him.

“Till our life shall be done,” she said with determination.

He sighed with relief and some of his tension eased.

“I’m still… I’m still not entirely sure what to make of it––how I feel about it… other than angry and frustrated. But I did promise ‘till our life shall be done,’ and… I may not have meant it when I first promised it, but I certainly did countless times thereafter. It… It was easier loving you––well… the  _memory_  of you… when I thought you were dead,” she confessed. “But I still prefer loving the real you, however difficult you sometimes make it.”

Jamie snorted and his hand reached for her but stopped and waited until she reached for him as well and pressed her palm to his.

“I’d be inclined to say the same of you but no, I  _do_  find lovin’ ye to be the easy part. It’s seeing we both survive the lovin’ ye that I find difficult,” he teased gently, testing the waters.

She laughed enough for him to test a little more.

“May I kiss ye?”

“Please do,” she whispered back.

It was when he placed his hands gently on either side of her face, tracing her cheekbones with his thumbs before bringing his lips to hers that she was able to stop thinking and only feel––to only feel and let that bit of her be wholly convinced. The reasoning bit of her mind understood and could follow the troubling emotional trail Jamie laid down from a boy called William to a Lallybroch he recognized but where he no longer fit and the numb resignation of letting someone else decide what to make of the future he couldn’t see. The reasoning bit of her mind tried to guide her heart along that same trail but her heart refused to be led by her mind.

It could only be persuaded by Jamie’s lips on hers; his hands on the small of her back pulling her closer; the salt of his tears on her tongue. Her heart knew he meant it when he said she was the only one he had truly loved in the ways that mattered most.

And as long as she could feel that–– _know_  that––down through her bones, she would stay and face whatever lay ahead… including Laoghaire.

She broke away to catch her breath, shifting her position so that she could curl into his side and they could lie down. He pulled her cloak up to cover them as they settled on the ground.

“Have you given any sort of thought to what to do about Laoghaire?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“I believe the fact that I wed you first is what matters most in terms of the law,” he answered. “And she didna seem to mind much that I’ve been gone for some time… though she’ll likely mind losing the money I sent for her and the lasses a great deal. I’ll think of an offer I can make for her to let the matter drop quietly.”

Claire scoffed. “If there’s one thing I’d be willing to wage money on, it’s that Laoghaire will make as much noise as possible before dropping the matter.”

Whatever Laoghaire might do, the two of them dropped the matter for the rest of the night and gave in to the physical and emotional exhaustion they both felt, sleeping lightly through to dawn.


	3. Chapter 3

They reached Lallybroch shortly after midday. The barking of dogs in the yard was soon overwhelmed by the barking of Jenny, Ian, and others Claire failed to recognize as they poured out of the house first calling to the dogs to quiet themselves and then to the arriving party. 

If any of them had been hoping for a warm welcome, they were mistaken. Young Ian tried to approach Claire’s horse to help her down but Jamie nudged him aside with a quiet, “Face yer responsibilities, lad,” said under his breath. 

For a moment Claire thought their nephew might stick his tongue out at them, but taking a final deep breath and pulling himself up straight and tall, the lad stepped forward to meet his mother. 

Her hand flashed out and caught him upside the head. 

“What in the name of the devil possessed ye to run off like that?” she scolded loudly. “Are ye tryin’ to put me in my grave with worry?”

“Mam I––” Before he could answer either question, her other hand shot out and she caught the other side of his head. 

“Ye’ll no say a word until I tell ye to,” she ordered. 

“But ye asked me a question,” the lad said defensively, already ducking his head and raising his arms so they’d be ready if she moved to strike again. 

“I’m no interested in excuses, Ian and I’m no ready to hear yer apology just yet but I advise ye to start working on it now,” she told him. “Into the house with ye and clean yerself up. Ye look a mess.”

Jenny nodded to a young woman who was pressing her lips tight together to keep from smirking––“That’s young Janet,” Jamie whispered in Claire’s ear after setting her on the ground. 

Young Ian glanced briefly to his father whose silent frown bespoke pity as well as his own pain. The lad fell into step beside his sister who led him toward the kitchen. “I  _ did _ wash in the burn this morning,” he muttered defensively. Janet couldn’t contain the squeak of laughter at his declaration but their parents had turned their attention to Jamie and Claire. 

“Hello Jenny,” Claire said with a nod to her sister-in-law. Jamie’s hand tightened around hers at her side. 

“Ian told me ye were back,” Jenny responded, her face losing the obvious anger it had worn for young Ian and becoming a blank mask instead. “I told him I would believe it when I saw ye with my own eyes.”

“Well… here I am.”

“Here ye are.”

There was a beat of silence before Jamie cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for no sending the lad back to ye right away,” he began. 

“What’s done is done,” Ian cut him off before Jamie could begin spinning further apologies and excuses. “He’s home and he’ll be stayin’ here for a long while. If we need to set Janet on him to watch him day and night, he’ll no be sneakin’ off again.”

Jamie shut his mouth and nodded though he knew his nephew would have a few things to say on the subject. 

“Would you mind if we came inside for a chance to wash up a bit?” Claire asked meekly. “I’m sure you have questions…”

Jenny’s face softened and a sadness seeped in that brought out the changes of time––more prominent lines around her eyes, mouth, and jaw where the skin had lost some of its elasticity. 

“Aye… But none as canna wait till I’ve had a chance to be sure it’s really you.” Jenny stepped forward to embrace Claire warmly. Claire found herself trembling as she let herself feel the lesser pains of those twenty years. The ache of missing Jamie had been great enough to leave her numb to the others but she had missed Jenny and Ian and the feeling of belonging and home she’d had with them at Lallybroch more than she realized. 

After a few moments, Jenny released Claire and the two of them laughed awkwardly while they brushed away the tears that had sprung to their eyes. 

“Inside with ye now. I’ll have a room readied for the pair of ye while ye have a wee bite to hold yerselves over to supper. Once we’ve talked a spell ye can wash up and rest till then, aye?”

Claire fell into step beside Jenny who proceeded to fill Claire in on her children, their spouses, and grandchildren, throwing names and ages at her without pausing to be sure she caught them. Ian and Jamie looked at each other skeptically before following their wives to the parlor. 

“France is where Ian said ye’d fled,” Jenny prompted Claire.

“Yes. I managed to get away. Being an Englishwoman helped when I reached the coast,” Claire responded in stiff and stilted sentences.

“But France is no so far. Why did ye never write to tell us where ye were and that ye lived? We could have found some way to get ye word of Jamie… and if he’d known ye survived…” Jenny kept the harsh, scolding edge of her voice carefully sheathed but they were all aware it was there just beneath the surface. 

“I couldn’t find anyone I trusted enough to deliver the message,” Claire rambled. “If it had fallen into the wrong hands… I never would have forgiven myself if you were implicated in anything because of me. I heard enough of what was happening in the Highlands… If the worst of the tales I heard had come to pass here…”

Jenny went pale at some remembered fear or pain and her gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, the mending she’d taken up lying limp as though she couldn’t remember what it was she’d been doing with it. 

“Aye, well… what’s passed is past,” Jamie spoke up. He set aside a plate with nothing left but the crumbs of bread and cheese he’d been given. “We must turn our attention to the future though… that isna goin’ to be so easy with my press and a few slugs of type all that’s left of my shop… and… wi’ someone else sniffin’ about the docks and my  _ other _ enterprises.”

“Are ye planning to stay here at Lallybroch for a spell or do ye mean to be off again soon as ye can?” The edge in Jenny’s voice began to expose itself. 

“We haven’t settled on a plan yet,” Claire informed Jenny. “We’ll need to stay for a few days, at the least, while Fergus is sorting things out back in Edinburgh. We could return there and Jamie can find a new space or… we could return to France…”

“There’s much to be decided,” Jamie agreed, “but after the last few days on the road, I think for now I could settle for a shave and a lie down.”

“The room should be ready.” Jenny rose to take them up with Jamie muttering beneath his breath that he kent the way well enough. 

“That went well,” Claire remarked quietly after Jenny had pulled the door closed behind her. 

“It isna over, Sassenach,” Jamie insisted. He stood at the basin examining the razor that had been left for him. “There wasna nearly so much yelling.” He paused and cocked his head to the side. “Ye can hear her now. Wee Ian’s gone in to see her again now he’s washed and they dinna have an audience. That’s more the reaction I’d have expected from her.”

“Who’s to say she won’t lecture you more later when she gets you alone?” Claire teased. She dropped to the edge of the bed with a humph. “We do need more of a plan about what we’ll do next. Though it seems she wouldn’t mind if we stayed for a time.”

“There isna much for either of us to do here, I’m afraid. We’re no the Laird and Lady anymore,” he lamented. “And the tenants as remember ye so… well… it’s none so easy to face them when they want to treat ye as before and ye both ken it’s no right anymore.”

“So do you want to go back to Edinburgh? Or maybe we can go to another city––Inverness or Glasgow, perhaps––if Edinburgh is too dangerous just now…”

He looked at her in the mirror wiping the last of the mess from his clean-shaven cheeks and smiled. “I suppose now’s as good a time as any to discuss matters.”

“We’ve done an impressive job of avoiding the subject so far,” she agreed. 


	4. Chapter 4

As they sat down to dinner, it was clear that the tension in the air remained intact, a building pressure seeking an outlet yet to be found.

The elder Ian attempted to make polite conversation and his oldest son, Jamie, responded in kind but the larger portion of the party let cutlery scraping their plates do the talking.

Claire could feel Jenny’s eyes following her every time she lifted her fork to her mouth or set it down to reach for her glass of wine. It took a great deal of self-control to keep from turning and meeting the other woman’s gaze but she knew that doing so would precipitate something that would be better handled in private. Instead Claire turned to her oldest nephew who had been baffled but warm in his welcome.

“I understand your wife and children are visiting with her mother?” Claire asked with a tilt of her head.

“No exactly. Our youngest arrived a fortnight ago,” he explained. “My wife’s mother came to help wi’ the bairns for a spell.” His face reddened sheepishly. “We heard word from Da that ye’d returned and I’ve been usin’ ye as a reason to leave the women to themselves. My mother-in-law likes me well enough but…”

“You’re not as fond of her?” Claire guessed with a smile. Her eyes darted briefly to her husband whose smiling eyes were waiting for her across the table.

“It’s no that I’m no fond of her,” the younger Jamie defended himself, “it’s that the house is… _crowded…_ just now.”

The majority of those sitting at the table laughed with sympathy and amusement but a sudden crashing from the entryway of the house reached down the hall to grab their attention.

“Where is he?” an angry feminine voice rose at one someone near the doorway to the dining room.

Claire watched Jamie go red starting with the tips of his ears. Anger passed to fear and back to anger across his eyes before he stood with enough force to send his chair skittering back.

“Where’s that coward?” Laoghaire asked as she stormed into the dining room.

Claire looked to Jenny who was watching her and waiting to see how she would react. Claire held her sister-in-law’s gaze for several beats––long enough to see something like regret cross Jenny’s face before hardening with a surge of her Fraser stubbornness.

“Laoghaire, I dinna ken why ye’ve come barging in just now when we’re sat down to our suppers,” Jamie addressed the fuming woman, “but I’ll thank ye to stop yer bellowing and wait for me in the sitting room.”

Laoghaire scoffed. “Ye’ll no be hiding me away anymore, Jamie Fraser. Ye’ve been doing yer best of it for some time and I’ve put up wi’ it when I shouldna have done but now I hear ye’re taking up with another woman and carryin’ on as though ye’re no still wed to me…”

“In this situation,” Claire said with a raised voice as she stood and turned her attention to Laoghaire, “I believe _you_ are the one who would be considered the ‘other woman.’”

The color drained from Laoghaire’s face and her eyes went wide with disbelief. It was a fleeting shock, however. The rage of youthful resentment and jealousy flooded her face leaving her cheeks red and splotchy where once such an emotional shift would have left her with a rather flattering flush.

“And what is’t brought you crawlin’ back from the dead? I always kent ye were a witch,” Laoghaire muttered the last under her breath.

“Disappointed your attempt on my life failed all those years ago?” Claire threw back. She caught Jamie’s hand clench suddenly into a fist at his side while the heads of everyone else at the table swiveled in her direction with jaws gaping.

Laoghaire shrank back a moment as she looked to Jamie then Jenny as though expecting one of them to object to Claire’s accusation. But Jamie’s face was filled with disgust and Jenny’s confusion.

“I thought you were just a foolish, heartsick child,” Claire lectured, “so I kept what you did to myself. But to marry _my husband_ knowing what you did––what you did and not _tell_ him…” Claire let all the anger and frustration that had boiled up within her as Jamie told her the night before, rise up again. She could feel the slight trembling in her hands where she leaned forward on the table. “It’s no wonder you made him so miserable.”

Laoghaire surged forward. “ _I_ made him miserable?” she shrieked.

Jenny shot to her feet. “Enough!” she cried. “Laoghaire for God’s sake, shut yer gob and get out.”

“ _You_ are asking me to leave, Jenny Murray, when ye’re the one made the match?” Laoghaire crossed her arms over her chest and sneered at the shorter woman.

“As though I needed to persuade ye on the matter.” Jenny rolled her eyes and set her hands on her hips. “Now leave before I set the dogs on ye.”

Laoghaire scoffed. “I’m no going anywhere until I’ve talked everything through with my husband.”

“I’m NOT yer husband,” Jamie said forcefully, his voice just shy of shouting. “The law and the church say I canna have two wives living and as Claire never was dead, then she’s the only wife I’ve had and that’s more than enough for me.”

Claire choked on a laugh then watched Jamie’s face turn red and the corner of his mouth twitch from the effort not to join her.

Laoghaire seemed to believe they were laughing at her.

“You _are_ my husband!” she insisted with all the conviction of a toddler throwing a tantrum. “And ye’re the only father my lasses have left––or do ye mean to leave them fatherless again?”

“For Joanie and Marsali’s sakes, I suggest ye leave this house now,” he growled, “or I’ll no be givin’ ye anything more to help with them. It’s for their sake I’m not throwin’ ye through that door with my bare hands!” he began to rage. “Do ye mean to shame me over this now I ken what ye tried to have done to Claire? Well the shame I feel isna for puttin’ ye through all this––not anymore. No the shame I feel is for ever havin’ married ye to start.”

“Jamie,” Claire said quietly and firmly. She was watching Jenny whose hands were still on her hips. Jenny’s back was turned from Laoghaire and Jamie and she was staring intently at the empty space beside her half-finished dinner.

“Go, Laoghaire,” Jamie ordered with a tone that refused further argument. “I’ll send for a lawyer to come and see this handled properly and I’ll find a way to see Marsali and Joanie get a wee something too.”

“But nothing for me and my troubles,” Laoghaire muttered with disgust as, resigned, she turned to leave.

“I’m takin’ it as interest owed for the troubles you caused Claire at Cranesmuir,” Jamie retorted following her to be sure she left.

As soon as they were out of the dining room Jenny looked up to Claire.

“I’m sorry… I kent near as soon as it was done that it was like to be a mistake––seeing the two of them wed,” Jenny explained. “I’m sorry it was her, though I didna ken that there was anything in the past between ye. But I’ll no say I’m sorry for pushing Jamie to remarry. She wasna entirely wrong. It wasna her that made Jamie miserable––though she didna help the way I’d hoped. It was losing you did him in. And I’ll no apologize for doin’ everything in my power to help him past it.”

“I was the one agreed to the marriage,” Jamie said as he returned and overheard Jenny’s regrets. “It wasna yer place to be pushin’ me that way but it was down to me to put my foot down and I didna do so.”

“Of course it was my place to push ye that way,” Jenny retorted emphatically. “It’s been my place to look after ye that way since Mam passed. Ye’re the only brother I have left. I took care of ye when we lost Willie and Mam. I couldna help ye when Da passed but ye had Ian with ye and that was some comfort. I might not have kent where she’d gone to but I kent Claire was gone and I saw what that did to ye and it was worse than any of the others. I couldna just stand by and let that eat at ye because _that_ would have eaten at _me_.”

“I was a grown man,” Jamie pressed, the lingering anger toward Laoghaire still flickering beneath the surface of his skin.

“Ye were a broken man. I hoped to find a way to hold ye together; I kent I’d never find a way to heal ye properly.” Her attention had been focused on Jamie but there was a brief flicker as her eyes momentarily darted to Claire. “Even now it doesna matter how much she heals ye, I’ll always ken where the cracks are.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny,” Claire interceded. “I should have tried harder to find a way to contact you… I was broken too. I didn’t think––”

“I can forgive ye for the grief ye caused me,” Jenny interrupted, “and there was plenty of it, Claire. Ye’re the only sister I’ve ever had and ye canna know what it meant having ye here before… But I dinna know that I can forgive ye for hurting my brother like ye did.”

“It’s no for ye to forgive her on that score,” Jamie told Jenny, the anger replaced with tenderness. “That’s for me to do as well.”

Jenny’s jaw jutted out defiantly for the briefest moment before she nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Aye well… For all ye’re bigger’n me in size… ye’ll always be the wee lad I carried about the yard because ye were too small to keep up with Willie and I hated seeing ye cry at him leavin’ ye behind.”

Jamie’s head bobbed in a faint nod. “Just so. You managed to hold me together better’n ye give yerself credit for.” He stood behind her and rested a hand lightly on her back while he bent and kissed her crown. “Thank ye.”

“Yes,” Claire agreed, rounding the table to stand on Jenny’s other side. “Thank you for taking care of him when I couldn’t. You’re the only sister I’ve ever had, too, and I’d hate to think…”

Jenny hugged Claire, cutting off the words before she could finish. “Forgiven,” she whispered low enough that only Claire could hear. “Thank ye for bringin’ him back to himself. And make certain ye bring him back here now and again,” Jenny requested. “I’ve a feelin’ ye’ll no be staying close to Lallybroch for long.”

“I will. I promise,” Claire assured her.

_FIN_


End file.
